Alara’s gaze turned speculative. She thought she knew what the captain was really after, and that was just fine by her. Clearly this was the new code language they’d had to resort to in order to get around her overzealous chaperones. Alara smiled and snatched the flight suit out of the officer’s hands. “I’ll be back later, Mom.”
“Alara!”
The old woman made a grab for her arm as she hurried through the open door, but the captain intercepted it by stepping between them.
“You can’t take her!” Darla insisted. “I won’t let you!”
Alara turned to see her erstwhile mother struggling with the officer, hitting him and kicking him, eliciting grunts and yelps from the young man. At last he grew impatient and shoved her away from him. She stumbled back into the wall, hitting it hard, and nearly falling to the floor. She recovered, rubbing her shoulder and glaring at the captain with murder glinting in her violet eyes.
The captain gave a deep sigh and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Vastra—for that—but you must understand, she’s no longer your responsibility. She’ll be assigned her own quarters on the flight deck. You can look for her there if you’d like to visit. Good day.” The captain saluted and then turned and started down the corridor at a brisk stride.
Alara had to struggle to keep up. “You didn’t need to be so rough with her.”
“It wasn’t my intention.”
They reached the lift tubes at the end of the corridor and waited for the first one to arrive.
“You’re Captain Reese, the man from the bar last night, aren’t you?” Alara asked.
“That’s right.”
“The overlord told me about you.”
“Oh?” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Good things I hope?”
She smiled. “He said you’d make a good friend.”
“Ah.” The lift arrived and they stepped inside.
Alara brushed up against the captain as he scanned the control panel inside the lift. “So . . . where are you taking me?” Her hands found his biceps and squeezed.
He punched the button labeled Flight Deck and turned to her with a tight smile. “For flight training,” he replied.
“What?” Alara took a quick step back from him. The lift doors closed and it fell swiftly to the specified deck. “You mean that wasn’t just a ruse to get me away from Darla?”
“No, why would you think that?” the captain asked innocently.
Alara crossed her arms. “I’m not actually going to fly a nova.”
“Too late. You’re already enlisted.”
“I didn’t sign anything.”
He took a step toward her. “I’m sorry, did I say enlisted? I meant conscripted.”
“Frek you!” she said and gave him a violent shove.
“Hoi,” he chuckled. “Watch how you speak to your superior officers.”
“What are you going to do if I refuse to fly?”
The officer shrugged. “I’m not going to do anything, but if you don’t fly, you won’t get back to the Defiant.”
Alara’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
The lift stopped and the doors swished open. “We don’t have enough simulator pods for all the trainees, so to speed things along training missions are going to be conducted in the cockpits of real novas.” Alara gaped at him, and he gestured to the open doors. “After you.”
“Go frek yourself!”
“Don’t worry, if you flunk the mission, you won’t have to fly.”
“Good, because that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“Well, don’t throw your scores. The fleet needs you, Angel.”
Alara stormed out of the lift, calling out over her shoulder, “Frek the fleet, too!”
She heard the captain chuckling behind her as she went. “Well, Angel, if you flunk this test, you can go back to doing exactly that.”
She turned to glare at him. “Watch it.”
“So you do have some self-respect. That’s good. Hold on to it. You’re going to need every shred once the other pilots discover what you do for a living.”
Alara glared at him with naked fury. “Of all the men in the galaxy,” she said, picking her words carefully. “You’re the worst.”
The captain’s laughter echoed back to her ears. “You would know!”
* * *
The briefing room was cold and airy. It was an auditorium with a double high ceiling and tiered seating for about forty. Alara sat through the briefing with a bored look on her face. The auditorium was crowded, with almost every seat occupied by officers and trainees dressed in identical black flight suits, all balancing shiny black helmets on their laps. Alara looked down at her own helmet and studied the inscrutable visor instead of paying attention to the briefing. She couldn’t fly a nova! What was Captain Reese thinking?
She felt his elbow connect sharply with her ribs, and she looked up with a scowl to see him nod down to the man on the podium.
“Pay attention,” he whispered.
She smiled thinly at him, and then turned to face forward again. Why should she risk her life for these people? They were nothing to her. She didn’t owe them anything. What had people ever done for her besides abandon her and use her? The only person she owed anything to was Alec Brondi.
Commander Adari’s deep voice began cutting through her thoughts. “The Defiant has moved out to the edge of the Stormcloud Nebula in preparation for our first SLS jump.” The commander turned to the holoscreen behind him and gestured to it, bringing a glowing star map to life. The lights automatically dimmed so they could see the map better.
“We’re currently situated here.” The Defiant’s position was indicated by a green icon. “And we’re going to follow a flight path along these coordinates.” He gestured to the screen once more and a jointed green line appeared in three dimensions, joined with dots wherever the heading changed until it reached a lasso shape that curved around the system’s only planet. “We’re going to conduct a quick recon of the system, doing a basic slingshot around Taylon before heading back here. Your waypoints are already set, so all you have to do is master the flight controls well enough to reach them. This is as easy as it gets, so when you get out there, don’t go skriffy on me. You’re flying real novas, and although there should be no actual danger on this mission, it is a live exercise and a nova can be more than dangerous enough if you don’t follow the instructions in your tutorial carefully.
“You’ve all been signed up for this mission with the assumption that you already have basic flight training, so this mission should be like riding a hover cycle. The AI flight trainer will show you where all the knobs and buttons are. As for the rest—thanks to the delays in getting our novas ready and configured for training, we just have one day for these exercises—today—and there’s more than twice as many of you as I have birds for you to fly. That means you’re going to have to take turns, and we’re only going to be able to give you the basics in the time we have. For the rest of it, you’re going to have to learn the hard way—blood and tears.
“Only the pilots with the best scores are going to make the active duty roster, and the rest of you will go back to your current assignments. Any questions?”
“How do we takeoff?” one trainee asked.
Alara heard the commander sigh. “The auto will do that for you. Same thing for landing. Flight regs require even experienced pilots to use the autos. Any other questions?”
The room was silent.
“Good.” The commander turned to the holoscreen and waved his hand once more. A list of names appeared in place of the star map. “If your name is on this list, then you’re flying in the first run. I’ll call you down by wing pairs.”
As Commander Adari began calling out names, Alara scanned the list. She found her name there below that of Captain Adan Reese just before they were called down to the podium.
Adan elbowed her again as he stood up. “That’s us,” he said.
Alara frowned as sh
e followed him down to the podium. When they got there, she saw from the way Commander Adari smirked at her that recognized her from the bar, but he didn’t say anything about it, he just nodded and gestured to the open door which lay to one side of the podium. Speaking to Adan, he said, “The pair of fighters parked beside the Mark II’s are yours.”
Adan nodded back. “See you in the hangar, Commander.”
* * *
—THE YEAR 10 AE—
Roan had to hold himself back. It would have been easy to lash out—to strike back and kill the people who had injured him—but Tova had told him to wait. Apparently the humans were fighting each other, and these particular ones were not a part of the alliance between Gors and Humans. That meant they were fair game, but Tova had also told him to stay hidden. She’d let him know when she was near and then he would do what she had asked and sabotage the ship.
Roan held back a hiss. He didn’t like all the waiting and skulking around. He would have much rather hunted them all down and killed them himself. Roan had been forced to dig through the debris from the explosion to get out. Hours later he’d found the exit, and then he’d still had to climb up more than ten floors before he could get out. All of that had left him feeling very hungry. No matter what Tova said about him staying hidden, he would need to hunt soon. The empty hole in his stomach needed to be sated.
It was that need which had Roan skulking down the corridor behind two burly humans, watching them walk blithely along, talking loudly as if they hadn’t anything to fear. Roan bared his teeth in anticipation of the kill as he listened with half an ear to the humans’ conversation. The translator he’d been given allowed Roan to understand what they were saying, but he wasn’t sure why he cared. He should just kill them and eat them now.
“. . . I’m tellin’ ya this is frekkin’ nuts. Big Brainy’s finally done it. He’s become a total stim-bake. Now we’re going into Sythian Space? What is he thinking?”
“I dunno.”
“I’ll tell ya what! He’s not thinking. We’re gonna to die out there.”
“Well, I dunno ‘bout that.”
“Frek, you dunno krak, do ya?”
Roan saw the pair of men disappear around the corner, their voices drifting out of hearing. His translator had faithfully reproduced what they’d said in a reasonable facsimile of his own language, and now he was left staring after them with thoughtfully narrowed eyes. The human rebels were venturing out of Dark Space. Tova had told him to wait until she arrived with reinforcements to rescue him, but now that would be impossible.
He had to tell her about the change of plans. Tova would have to catch up to him whenever these humans reached their destination. Closing his eyes, Roan concentrated on Tova in order to send her a message, but no sooner had he shut his eyes than he noticed the telltale hum of silence which accompanied superluminal space, and his eyes slowly opened once more. He couldn’t communicate with Tova while they were in SLS. It was too late. The ship had already jumped. He’d have to wait until they reverted to real space, and hope his mate was still in range.
Now Roan did hiss. He should kill them all and take command of the ship himself. That was what Tova was coming to do anyway. Why should he hold back any longer?
Roan bared his teeth and sprinted after the pair of men who’d been walking ahead of him. He rounded the corner and saw them walking up ahead, just about to reach the next bulkhead door. Roan raced soundlessly down the corridor, his breath coming in an easy rhythm, reverberating back to him inside his helmet as he rushed up behind the two men. As soon as he was within reach, he grabbed them both simultaneously—one neck in each of his large hands. His momentum knocked the men over while he barreled on to bounce off the bulkhead. Roan turned to see them struggling to their feet.
He didn’t let them get that far.
As soon as the first man looked up, Roan snapped his neck with a violent twist. His fellow screamed, but that scream was cut short as Roan lunged for his throat and ripped it out.
Chapter 12
—THE YEAR 10 AE—
Adan pointed over Alara’s shoulder. “There. Go strap in. The trainer AI will get you started.”
Alara nodded, her eyes wide as she turned in a dizzy circle to find the fighter Adan was pointing at. The canopy was open and waiting for her to climb in. She started toward the nova, blinking against the glare of all the bright lights inside the hangar. There was a confusing noise of trainees scrambling to their fighters and of flight controllers calling out orders to the ground crew over the intercom. A pair of men in reflective orange and yellow jumpsuits raced by right in front of her, and she had to halt before she ran into them. Once she reached her fighter, Alara climbed up the short set of stairs which rose out of the deck to the wing. She heard her boots clanging on the metal rungs as she climbed, and she could smell the acrid fumes of reactor fuel and laser gas in the air. Alara reached the top of the ladder and stepped up onto the wing to gaze down into the open cockpit. It looked cramped; the narrow black flight chair was surrounded with blinking lights and display screens, and the surfaces were peppered with an intimidating number of switches, levers, and dials. How was she ever going to figure out what all of it was for?
She lowered herself carefully into the chair, juggling her helmet and taking care not to bump the flight stick as she swung one leg over it. She looked up to find her fighter already pointed out toward the starry blackness of space, and even though the view was slightly blurred by the fuzzy blue of the hangar’s shields, she could see countless thousands of stars twinkling at her. Here, beyond the empty void of Dark Space, the stars were brighter and more numerous, and Alara found herself marveling at them despite her reluctance to enjoy her mandatory pilot’s training.
“Hello, pilot,” a cool, commanding voice said. Alara saw a hovering holo of a man’s head and shoulders appear, projected from the holoscreen on the left side of her dash. She noticed there were three such screens—one larger one in the center, and two smaller screens to either side. “Seal your canopy, and let’s get started. Find the red button under the transparent cover near your right elbow, marked raise/lower canopy, and punch it.”
Alara turned to look and she saw the indicated button glowing brightly, highlighted by the interactive holofield. She lifted the cover and depressed the button.
Immediately, there came a hum of motors and the angular canopy lowered over her head. It sealed with a hiss of pressurizing air, and then a glowing green HUD (heads-up display) appeared.
The hovering head spoke once more. “Now strap in and put on your helmet while I adjust your seat.”
The chair began sliding forward automatically until the flight stick came within easy reach and fit snugly between her legs. Alara noted that with a wry grin as in her mind’s eye the stick became something else.
“I said strap in and put on your—”
“Right.” Alara hunted around for her flight restraints. Finding them, she strapped in, and then she slid on her helmet and fiddled with the seals at her neck. She felt her ears pop as her suit pressurized.
“Now fire up the reactor. The ignition is just below the central display screen.”
Alara found the button under another transparent cover and stabbed it. A rising whir started up, causing the nova to vibrate around her.
“You are now sitting in the cockpit of a Nova RZX-1 Starfighter, otherwise known as the Mark I. This starfighter is a good compromise between armament, shielding, and speed. It comes equipped with three red dymium laser cannons, eight Hailfire missiles, and four Silverstreak torpedoes, as well as homing flares for countermeasures. There is an SLS drive for interstellar flight, control surfaces for atmospheric flight, and grav lifts for vertical takeoff and hover. Your top acceleration in space is 145 KAPS, while your shields are ranked at a DR of 80. This fighter is pulse-shielded, which means it’s designed to deflect sudden intense bursts of energy, not sustained fire, so if you don’t learn to jink and juke with the best of them, you’re goin
g to have a very short career as a pilot. Now, listen up while I go through a quick overview of your nova’s flight controls.”
Alara listened intently to the virtual instructor and watched as it highlighted the main controls, starting with the flight stick, the handle-shaped throttle slider, and the rudder pedals which she now depressed experimentally with first one foot and then the other.
“Remember, moving the flight stick left or right does not move your fighter left or right, it only rolls you in that direction. To actually make a turn, you must first roll and then pull up on the stick, or else use your rudder pedals to redirect your thrusters and slew your ship.
“Now find the throttle control beside your left armrest. Feel free to slide it forward, all the way to your fighter’s maximum acceleration of 145 KAPS. Don’t worry, your fighter’s engines are disabled for the moment.”
The holo field highlighted a handle-shaped slider which was set into a groove running down the middle of a shiny black digital screen. The screen was alight with glowing dashes which began at negative 150 and went up to 200. In front of the slider, the display read 0 KAPS in a large, glowing green font, and beside it another number read 0 m/s.
Reaching out to move the throttle as the instructor had told her to do, Alara slid it forward until she felt resistance. The leftmost of the two glowing green numbers quickly counted up to 145 KAPS and then stopped. The slider still had some room left to go, but the glowing dashes running past that point were all red.
“Good,” the instructor said. “Notice the two numbers at the bottom of the throttle display. The first one is KAPS and it describes your acceleration, with one KAPS being approximately equal to one meter per second per second in deep space. The second number is m/s, or meters per second, and that is your ship’s current speed. You can disengage thrusters and cruise to save fuel, or you can set a target speed to have your thrusters auto-disengage by playing with the pair of gray sliders on either side of the speed display. Go ahead and try it now.”
Dark Space- The Complete Series Page 30